


5 Times Nathan Drake Liked Being Bisexual and 1 Time He Loved It

by fortunefading



Category: Uncharted
Genre: Bisexual Nathan Drake, F/M, M/M, NSFW, Nate loves morning sex btw, Other, Proposals, Smut, The Ladies of Uncharted roast his entire life, Vaginal Sex, he dated harry, he had his first kiss, implied abusive relationship, just doing his dadly business and supporting his son, loves guys and girls and people in between!!, nate is really bi everyone, sully is a good dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 18:47:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortunefading/pseuds/fortunefading
Summary: Nathan Drake loves more than just women. He loves his first kiss, his engagement, his flings, his friends, his wife, and his elders.





	1. Javier Menendez, Medellin

**Author's Note:**

> "Buy me a drink, sailor," is the least heterosexual thing I've ever heard so I've come to the conclusion that Nate is a bigger bisexual than I am, which is really saying something.

“You sure that talking to Pablo Escobar himself is a great idea, Sully?” Nate asked sincerely. He didn't mean to suggest that his mentor was incapable, but the fact that their ‘smooth talking’ plans had been having a lower success rate as of usual. 

“Why not, kid? I gotta get a read on the guy myself. It's not like I'm with the DEA or some shit.” 

Pablo Escobar was known to flaunt his very illegal American dollars, it was the nature of the Medellin cartel to let you know that they had the money and the means to show off. However, Escobar was not a man without sense. Assets were important. They never stopped being valuable and they were easy to hide in plain sight. It just so happened that acquiring priceless treasures for foot-high wedges of good American dollars was a specialty of Victor Sullivan’s. 

“So my job is just to stay out front with Javi and run if it all goes to shit?” Nate said, strapping his small knife to his ankle and covering it with his Doc Martin knock-offs. It was the only weapon Sully would let him carry on his own. 

“Sure, and we go and celebrate if I walk out with an armful of starting cash. Bet Escobar is gonna be pretty into this whole Florentine Diamond find. You’ve met Javi already, you two will be best pals by the end of the evening.” 

Javier Menendez was a boy of just 17, only a year older than Nate. Nate had been getting a little bigger with all his climbing and full meals over the last two years but Javi was still a skinny lookout with even messier hair than Nate’s, much darker too. It glistened with Javi’s little smirk of a smile that made Nate blush just thinking about him. So what? A guy to appreciate another’s good looks. 

Nate had only seen Sully talking to him from a distance, keeping a lookout for the payoff of having someone on the inside. A teenager would never get noticed by Escobar, the man was most paranoid about his lieutenants. Not to mention that having the two teens waiting together while Sully did the talking would never arouse suspicion, especially if they played it off like they were only meeting once. 

To Nate’s eyes, Sully would fit right amongst the big wigs of the Medellin cartel. His ugly shirts and cigar addiction could make them all best friends if they didn't have to worry about there being so many guns. Just a wrong word from Sully could mean life or death. 

One of Escobar’s more trusted lieutenants picked the two of them up from their shabby little hotel, patting them down and looking for wires, muttering something about not being followed. Nate helped Sully rehearse his Florentine Diamond spiel one last time as they stepped out of the rickety old piece of shit that they had arrived in. Sully had the story down to a T.

“You won't even need cue cards,” Nate joked. 

“Ha, cute,” Sully retorted as they reached the front gate. 

Speaking of cute; Nate thought to himself as the iron fence slid open to reveal a familiar face. 

“Hey, Kid,” Sully said, trying not to imply that they were acquaintances, “I believe your ol’ pal Escobar is waiting for us.” 

Sully was promptly whisked away into the huge mansion by more guards, but not before yet another pat down for them both; after which, left Nate and Javi at the top of the short watchtower together to occupy themselves. For the moment, Javi’s good looks and open pack of chewing gum were entertaining Nate just fine. 

“You're a lot older than I thought you'd be,” Javi said, watching the cars in the street below. “Mr Sullivan mentioned bringing his son but I see that he must've been quite young to have you, yes?” 

“Yeah,” Nate lied, “my mom left me with him because she was even younger. Couldn't really handle a kid, y’know?” 

Javi sighed, the low sun starting to make his eyes brighter as dusk came in. 

“Must get pretty lonely, living everywhere but nowhere at once.” 

“I prefer it to the idea with having to live with nuns,” Nate said, spitting out his first strip of gum and starting a new one. “Guess having a friend other than my dad would be cool, only so much fun you can have with your dad, right?”

Javi shrugged, grinning to himself as he shook his head. 

“No girlfriend then, I assume?” He reached into his back pocket for a small tin and pulled out a small sheet of paper, sprinkling tobacco leaves down the middle carefully. 

“Nah, how could I hold down a relationship when I live on the road. Can't be a lover-in-every-port kind of guy.” Nate put a mental emphasis on the lover part. Watching Javi smirk at his James Bond-style quip had him further going down the years-long rabbit hole of who could love. Javi’s well-fitting jeans weren't doing his concentration any favours. “What about you?” He asked. 

“Never thought much girls, not in a pretty way,” Javi said, lighting his rolled cigarette. “Who needs them, right?” 

This is my chance, I just have to use it right. Nate thought. 

“So do you like boys?” Nate asked suddenly, maybe a little too loudly as well. FUCK. He scolded himself internally. That wasn't something you could just ask someone, now Javi would have to ask the same. Fuck. He needed Sully to come right now and bail him out of the horrible situation that he’d manage to create. There was no getting out of this nightmare now that he’d asked directly. 

“Sure,” Javi whispered. 

Nate let out an audible sigh of relief. 

“Holy shit,” he muttered to himself. “I'm sorry for asking, I didn't mean to just, y’know, blurt out a question like that,” he said shakily, hoping his Spanish was still holding up after the narrowly-avoided panic attack. 

“What about you?” Javi asked cautiously, putting his cigarette down, “or does it make you uncomfortable?” 

“Well, no, I just-” he pursed his lips together as he paused to rethink his excuse. “I thought you might be.” 

Javi reached behind him into his battered school satchel and pulled out a half-full bottle of Colombian rum. With the bottle he pulled out a small plastic cup that looked like it belonged to a thermos and pressed it into Nate’s hand, pouring him the bigger half of the rum. Javi gently knocked the neck of the bottle against the side of the plastic cup, grinning. 

“We should stick together, shouldn’t we? Boys who like to kiss boys and so on.” Javi said.

Nate froze. Javi had clocked him after all. Diverting the conversation in his own direction couldn’t have helped but he knew that Javi had picked up on the staring. Nate was only just working out that he was like Javi himself; he couldn’t afford other people noticing. He didn’t want to even imagine what his mentor might say. 

“I wouldn’t know,” he retorted, trying to make a quick recovery for himself. Only now did he realise what he had just walked into. Javi would offer to show him and Nate, being terrified of any one of the plentiful guards strolling around noticing them, would turn him down and push him away. Though, the rum was starting make Javi’s cheeks redden ever so slightly; either that or he was blushing. Beautifully.

“Would you like me to teach you?” No sooner did the words leave his mouth did Nate drop the little plastic cup and lean forward to bring their lips together. Javi gave him no resistance, only the pressure needed to kiss Nate back. 

In truth, Nate had no idea what he was doing. He’d imagined that his first kiss would be with some older, much more experienced girl who would take the lead and give him a straight line to follow. However, Javi’s soft lips and gentle hand running through his thin hair made for a better first kiss than he had ever imagined. Nate had closed his eyes for the sake of his nerves, for fear of being too eager and embarrassing himself; but he could feel Javi’s other hand playfully intertwining with his, gently rubbing tiny circles onto the back of his hand. Javi brought his other hand down from Nate’s hair, resting it against his burning cheeks. 

“You alright, Cowboy?” 

Before Nate could answer, the front door opened with a roar from the laughing drunk adults. Sully clutched a small box of cigars under his arm and looked fairly pleased with himself. 

Javi and Nate immediately pulled away from each other, lest they be spotted. They didn’t even look back at each other, with Nate simply climbing down from the lookout tower without another word to the boy that had taken up Nate’s whole world less than two minutes ago. Nate suddenly felt ashamed, and stared at his shoes silently all the way to the car, and all the way back to their shabby little motel. 

“Looks like our diamond hunt is a go, Kid,” Sully announced proudly, now that they were away from prying eyes and ears. “Have fun up there with Javi?” 

Nate bucked up like a deer in headlights. He went dark red again, unsure if Sully had seen anything. 

“Yeah, it was great,” he lied. It wasn’t great, it was fucking mindblowing. He retreated back to staring down at the floor too quickly to make it look normal. 

“You okay, Kid?” Sully asked gently. He sat on the bed next to where Nate was standing. “You know I saw that, right? You and Javi?” 

Nate was about to have a goddamn heart attack. 

“Sully, we-”

“Kid, it’s okay. I’m always gonna have your back, no matter who you fall for, as long as they’re not a backstabbing scumbag. Javi’s a good kid, just remember to play it safe, yeah? Now what’d’ya say we find some beers and make a proper start on this diamond thing, huh?” 

Nate was blown away. No scorn, only love. Somehow he knew that Sully wouldn’t react badly, but he was still scared of him ever knowing. 

Loving boys and girls was so dangerous, but for the first time, Nate could like himself that way.


	2. Harry Flynn, London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Nate 100% dated before Uncharted 2 and nobody can convince me otherwise. Also, for the sake of the fact that when I first played Uncharted 2 I genuinely thought that Harry wasn't white, but the U4 multiplayer went back on that but hey, I'm making Harry half-Jordanian anyway.

“What does your family actually know about me?” Nate asked, looking behind him in the mirror as he tried to finish tying his tie. 

“I told them that you’re a devilishly handsome American that stole my heart, love.” Harry teased, coming over to help him finish the knot. 

“So only the truth?” Nate grinned as his boyfriend pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“That, and that you’re an assistant restorer at the museum I apparently work at in Tokyo.” 

“And nobody checks this? I’m amazed your parents haven’t tried to come and visit.” 

Harry passed Nate his watch from the dresser. 

“My parents think they’ve travelled enough. My dad went everywhere in the army and from Jordan my mum went with him. They’d barely consider going to Scotland for a weekend, let alone getting on a plane to Tokyo.”

“You British,” Nate teased, “so hidden away.” 

“Don’t like, 40% of your country think the Earth is in the centre of Solar System or something?” Harry retorted. This was one of their best conversation pieces; debating about who’s country was better only to agree that they were both completely awful in the past and present.

“I thought your family would’ve been disappointed that you’re dating me and not a nice Muslim girl,” Nathan said. 

“My grandparents weren’t overly thrilled with my mum or my sister for marrying British Catholics if that’s where this is going, but they’ve come around. I’m sure they’ll like you just as much, love. Times are a’changing.”

\---------------------------------

“Potter!”

Potter? Oh. Harry Potter. Nate thought to himself. He was so using that later. This whole day was going to be a gold mine of embarrassing childhood memories about Harry for Nate to stock up on. 

Harry rushed to embrace his sister. Nate had seen plenty of pictures of her and was well aware of their twinship, but in person the sight was so much better. They had the same hair, the same eyes, even the same gleeful smile; Nate knew that they must’ve been as thick as thieves as kids just by looking at them. Amina Flynn, made up for her wedding day, while truly gorgeous only came close to her brother’s beauty in Nate’s eyes. 

“Nervous, Sis?” Harry asked playfully. 

“Nervous, sure; but ready.” 

Amina glanced over her brother’s shoulder, smiling softly at Nate. 

“You got ‘devilishly handsome’ right, little brother.” 

Little. This just got better and better for Nate. 

“Nathan Drake,” he said, sheepishly holding out his hand for her to shake, only to be pulled into a welcoming hug. 

“C’mon, you're basically one of the family by this point.” Amina was just as tall as her brother, and she rested her arms on their shoulders as they walked towards the family’s cottage together. She ruffled their hair affectionately as Harry’s appeared in the front doorway. 

Harry’s mother was quite short and had a neutral stare that slightly terrified Nate. Her headscarf flowed in the wind, a small gush of leaves rushing past her at her feet as if she were in a movie. Her sombre expression turned into a wonderful smile as she glanced over at them, hearing them walking up the pathway. She rushed over to him hurriedly and had him almost fully crouching to give her a proper hug, cheek kisses included. 

“There's my darling boy!” She announced jovially. 

“And my darling, too,” Harry said, grinning proudly as he reached for Nate’s hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“Hi there, Mrs Flynn,” Nate said, nodding graciously. 

“Oh, love, you must call me Shadia.” She planted an equally large kiss on Nate’s cheek. Nate was getting the impression that Harry’s family wasn't like the average uptight and emotionless English family. Harry’s family were very happy and affectionate and far more welcoming and accepting than Nate had imagined. He could get used to the idea of joining a family so warm. 

Nate was hurried through the crowd of bridesmaids and other guests on the bride’s side waiting to go to the church, often remarking on how Harry was right about his boyfriend being ‘devilishly handsome.’ Nate realised at that point that Harry had a considerable extended family. Harry had mentioned the Jordanian side of his family before but Nate had never imagined that it would be so huge. The gush of Arabic washed over him in a little shock, though he recognised a couple of words out of what he had picked up from Harry affectionately. He started to make a comment about the sea of beautifully detailed hijabs to his boyfriend, but refrained when someone who was clearly the reigning grandmother on his father’s side entered the living room. 

Nate watch Harry gulp slightly, watching her take the armchair in the corner, watching over the whole room like a vulture. 

“You okay?” Nate asked gently, feeling Harry suddenly withdraw his hand from Nate’s. 

“I can feel my super-strict Catholic grandmother judging us, and she's not even seen you yet,” Harry said nervously. 

Nate hated it when they couldn't be publically affectionate. They had fought so hard to be together only to have other assholes rain on their parade, or worse. It wasn't as if they hadn't had to protect each other on jobs from people who would rather see them dead, and not just over treasure. 

“Do you wanna leave, baby?” Nate whispered, his heart breaking a little. 

“Nah,” Harry said, shaking his head before smiling proudly again, “let's rub our love in the old bag’s face, eh?” 

Harry took his boyfriend’s hand, holding it tight he dragged him over to the old woman. 

“Hey, Granny!” Harry announced loudly. “Remember I told you about my boyfriend, Nathan?” He asked, kissing Nate fully on the lips, giggling quietly as Nate gave an obvious peck on the cheek in return. 

“Disgusting boy,” she grumbled, waving a wrinkly hand up to them as if she were swatting away a pair of flies, “I told you not to do any of your dirty stuff around us, and on your sister’s wedding day? Shame on you!” 

Nate pursed his lips, trying to stay composed while Harry audibly spluttering from trying to keep his laughter contained. 

“Oh, Granny dearest; I think you're just jealous. Once again I have reminded you that I can keep a perfectly good man when you can't.” 

Nate was losing it. He pressed a proud kiss to Harry’s cheek but was nearly crying into his shoulder from laughter while his grandmother fumed silently. 

“I told your mother that letting you do ballet would turn you into one of those faggots! You know the Lord thinks it ain't right!”

BALLET. Nate immediately perked up. He needed to see those photos. 

“Granny, you know I look my best in a tutu, you just won't admit I can pull it off better than you.” 

Harry’s grandmother stood up, waving her cane and was about to rain down some truly terrible abuse. However, they were saved by the literal bells. The bells of the church across the street started ringing loudly, and Harry tugged on Nate's hand again so that they could turn tail and run, laughing all the way to the church. 

“Aren't you worried that she’ll make a fuss to your parents?” Nate asked as they took their seats in the pews. 

“Nah, everyone knows the old bag is always up to no good, they'll never listen.” Harry said, kissing him properly again before the wedding march started playing. 

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

When the exchanging of the vows started, and Amina’s father stepped forward, Nate could really see where Harry and Amina got their tall skinny frames and sharp cheekbones from. Their eyes were definitely their mother’s but everything else was most certainly copy-pasted from their father. Steve Flynn was a near-spitting image of what Nate imagined Harry would look like in 30 years time, which put the idea of growing old together into his head. 

It could be a wonderful life. 

 

\------------------------------------

As they filed into the huge marquee for the wedding meal the cross of Amina and John’s cultures was beautifully evident. The reds and the greens of Amina’s side of the family and the wonderful smells of true Jordanian food were an unexpected change after a Catholic service for the groom’s side, but everything was woven together perfectly. Nate was promptly introduced to Steve Flynn. 

“American lad, eh?” He said, giving Nate’s hand a firm shake. 

“Yeah, I’m from Boston,” Nate said proudly, grinning back at his beloved. 

“Remind me to show you some of Harry’s baby photos, eh? Can't think of someone seeing my boy without knowing the embarrassing things!” 

“Baba!” Harry whined, resting his face on Nate’s shoulder, mortified. 

\--------------------------------

 

As it neared midnight the wedding dinner had passed, and the rowdiest of the festivities were over. A large number of the guests had gone home already, and those who were left were quietly nodding off into their cocktails. 

Amina and her husband, John, were still dancing together from their own romantic Spotify playlist plugged into a home speaker now that the DJ had packed up and left. Harry and Nate were a little tipsy from all the champagne they'd been drinking, and Nate rested his head against Harry’s chest as they sleepily slow-danced together. They watched Amina and John out of the corner of their eyes, smiling as they kissed each other slowly. 

There was nobody chasing them, no fellow treasure hunter with a gun and a mysterious hidden agenda. No diamonds to steal, no near-death experiences to have. It was peaceful and quiet, just Nate being able to be in happily in love. 

Harry grinned as he watched his boyfriend smile gently. 

“What do you think?” Harry asked. “About us?” 

Nate looked up tiredly and kissed his lower lip. 

“What about us?” 

“Should we get married, love?” Harry ran a hand through his lover’s hair. 

“Harry Flynn, are you proposing to me?” 

“Amina?” Harry called, smiling over at his sister. “You never threw your bouquet, love.” 

Amina didn't even question it. She smiled, shook her head and tossed the roses over to them. 

“We’ll give you two some privacy,” she teased, leaving the marquee with her new husband. 

Harry waited until they were alone, and looked around one last time before the lights would be turned off. Running a nervous hand through his hair he got down on one knee, holding up the flowers to his lover. 

“Nathan Drake, would you do me the great honour of marrying me?” 

Nate was unsurprised, but still speechless. He felt his eyes glazing over as explosive happiness built up inside of him. 

“Yes!” 

Nate took the flowers into his hands as Harry laughed proudly, lifting his new fiancé up and kissing him deeply. 

“I’M GETTING MARRIED!” Harry yelled into the night. He held Nathan close, kissing the top of his head. 

“Guess treasure isn't the only thing I steal, huh?” Nate whispered. 

“A thief after my own heart.”


	3. Ruen Alexander, Cornwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the NSFW chapter. Nate loves his non-binary datefriend and makes a show of it.

Nate opened his eyes slowly. He sighed contently and looked up to notice the soft sunlight dancing on the wall above the bed, coming through the very gently blowing curtains. The room was cool but not cold, he was comfortable under the duvet, and the heat of his datefriend warmed his heart. 

Ruen was still asleep in his arms. Nate gently hugged them closer, continuing to play the big spoon. He left a slow trail of soft kisses along their back, nuzzling against their soft curly hair as they woke up. 

“Someone’s looking cute this morning,” Nate whispered softly, careful not to startle them. 

Ruen slowly turned in his arms to face him, kissing Nate very gently, and brushing a small hair from his face. 

“So you already got a chance to look in the mirror, then?” Ruen asked, grinning smugly. 

“You know I was talking about you, right?” 

Ruen smiled shyly, cautiously rubbing their noses together before resting their head on Nate’s bear chest. Nate took ahold of their hand, kissing the back of it. 

“You okay?” Nate asked. He rested his other hand on Ruen’s stomach, giving them the chance to reject, but found them curling up a little closer to him. 

“This is just so… simple.” Ruen said. “We’re really not doing much of anything but this is the best I've felt, I think, maybe in my entire life.” 

Ruen closed their eyes, sighing deeply. Their cold breath made Nate flinch a little internally, but he didn't mind in the slightest. 

“I'm not worried, you know?” 

Nate ran a little of their dark hair between his fingertips, marvelling at their beauty. He nodded, kissing the back of their hand again. 

“I know,” he said. “It's perfect.” 

They stayed still and silent for a few more minutes. Nate thought that Ruen might've gone back to sleep; not that he minded at all. 

“You hungry?” Ruen asked quietly, turning onto his stomach and kissing Nate’s lips fully. 

“Yes,” Nate said, grinning as his moves his hand down Ruen’s back before letting it rest just below the belt. “But for what, I wonder?”

Ruen giggled at Nate’s hopelessness, resting his brow in the crook of Nate’s shoulder for a second before shaking his head. 

“You have a terrible way of asking for a round 2, Mr Drake,” Ruen teased playfully. They pushed themselves up a little as they straddled Nate’s hips, a little nostalgic of the previous evening’s events. They cupped Nate’s face in their hands, drawing him into a most intimate kiss and bringing Nate to sit up on his elbows to receive it. 

“Well,” Nate said, continuing to kiss back just as passionately, “I don't hear you objecting to my advances, Mx Alexander.” 

“Your advances?” Ruen asked, wriggling backwards a little as Nate placed his hands on their hips, pushing back the covers as he moved. “I think it's mine you're going to have to really worry about.” 

“If you think for even a moment that you're topping you c- holy shit!” Nate gasped, bucking his hips as he suddenly felt Ruen’s mouth enveloping his cock.

Ruen held the base of his cock, keeping Nate still as they slowly ran their tongue up the shaft. Nate trembled with pleasure under them and moaned loudly, muttering about how ‘goddamn amazing’ it was to get a repeat of last night. 

“So what were you just saying?” Ruen asked, sitting up between Nate’s legs, raising an eyebrow as he continued to use his hands to bring Nate to the edge. 

“Nothing, baby, you're doing just great,” Nate lied, secretly begging for Ruen’s mouth to return to his cock. 

Ruen slowly began to leave a trail of kisses up the sides, eventually reaching the head and licking up Nate’s already generous pre-cum. 

“If you’re planning some shit, just bear in mind that I am not above biting, Nate.” 

“I'll take your word for- fuck you’re good.”

Nate continued to whine breathlessly, begging his datefriend to keep going as they returned Nate to the edge, just waiting to send him over, screaming. He ran his hands through Ruen’s curls, ever-so-gently holding them in place, all the while whispering Ruen’s name and begging them to keep going.

Alas, Nate had an idea. Right at the last second he put a gentle hand under Ruen’s chin, asking them to stop. Ruen followed the hand under their chin, leaning over Nate as they returned to him for passionate kisses. Nate could taste himself on Ruen’s lips, and though he’d never admit it to anyone, much less himself, he started to see why Ruen liked it so much. His hands rested on their shoulders, leading the deep kiss and battling for dominance against their tongue. However, Nate had his own tricks up his sleeve. 

Gently, but forcefully, he pushed on their shoulder, rolling over and pinning Ruen down on the pillow next to them. 

“Gotcha,” he said with a cocky smile, “guess I’m on top now!” 

“I can still bite, you know,” Ruen said, still panting from their kiss. They went along with the play, but didn't resist as Nate wove his fingers together with theirs and pressed their hands down onto the mattress above their head, leaving Ruen completely at his mercy. 

“Face it, genius, you’ve been played.” Nate teased them, but moaned sensually as Ruen arched their back and lifted themselves to the crook of Nate’s neck, carefully biting and nibbling a large purple hickey into him. 

Damn, I love them. Nate thought. He was really going to have to work hard to return this favour. 

Ruen moved down to Nate’s collarbone, beginning a second bite. 

“And yet here I am, still winning, Cowboy.” They whispered, grinning as Nate leant lower to kiss them. “But I see that you’re still letting me lead you, cute.” 

Nate saw this as competition. He wasn’t letting Ruen do all the best work themselves, no matter how damn amazing it felt. He released Ruen’s hands, pushing himself back to kneeling between their legs. He felt like he was on fire. He was dripping sweat but still felt like he was burning. Ruen was watching as the head of the bed, resting on their elbows and expecting Nate to make a quick entrance and exit for himself, considering how desperate he looked. Instead, they threw their head back, yelling Nathan’s name as he swiftly began to lick between their folds, giving frequent attention to their clit. When Ruen had nothing to occupy their mouth with, they were loud. Nate was thankful for the thick stone walls of the house; listening to Ruen’s moaning pleas and lustful compliments. 

Ruen wove their fingers through his hair, as their boyfriend had done earlier, though they gripped more tightly, and was more determined to hold Nate to his duty. Nate didn’t stop to complain, only feeling compelled to become more savage in his task. He pressed his tongue to their clit, feeling them shudder around him, being brought right to the edge. He sat up, pushing two fingers deep into them, watching as they arched their back in pleasure. 

“I’m almost prepared to admit that you weren’t being so cocky last night after all,” Ruen said, moaning as they tried to move down further onto Nate’s fingers, only for Nate to use his other hand to hold them down at the hips. Nate added another finger, slowing moving them in and out whilst using his thumb to carefully rub their clit. Ruen continued to moan loudly, gripping the bedsheets as they gasped for air. Nate loved to see them so undone, with messy hair, panting, completely overwhelmed and in his hands. He felt them tremble, right on the verge of cumming; so he suddenly pulled out, leaving Ruen whining at the sudden emptiness. 

“Nate, I swear to almighty God, if you don’t- FUCK!” 

Nate pushed his cock in slowly, the widest smirk coming over his face as Ruen practically screamed. He held Ruen’s waist, gently pushing them down to take the full length of his cock. Ruen shielded his eyes in the crook of their elbow, overcome with the most blissful feeling of being so full. Last night had been amazing in it’s own right, but it was nothing like this. Ruen begged Nate to keep going, desperate for Nate to start thrusting. Even though Nate held them down, they still kept trying to roll their hips; their eyes glazing over and nearly in tears from how good they felt whilst also being denied for so long. 

Nate ran his hands under their back, lifting them closer to him. Ruen rested their arms over his shoulders, their foreheads almost touching as Nate quickly pounded into his datefriend. He slipped his arm around them, using his now free hand to cup their breast and run his tongue over their nipple, biting and sucking it cautiously. 

He slowed his pace carefully, still passionately fucking them, but giving himself enough time to give equally loving attention to Ruen’s other breast, playing with it in his hand and sucking until they begged him to cum. 

He held them close, kissing their neck and letting them moan longingly into his ear as he finally began to thrust quickly and forcefully, bringing himself to the edge, almost animalistically. 

“Nate, please. Please cum i- ah!” Nate felt their body convulse around him, shuddering as they came around him, sending him over the edge and riding him out through their orgasm. Nate groaned in ecstasy, cumming inside Ruen, slowly pounding them through his orgasm and breathlessly kissing them until the divine sensation began to numb, and exhaustion started to overwhelm him. 

Ruen was already almost asleep, smiling to themself as Nate lay them on the pillow next to his, brushing a stray hair away from their face. Nate returned to him position as the big spoon, his arms around Ruen’s stomach and holding them close, kissing the back of their neck until he was sure they were asleep. 

“I love you,” he whispered, drifting off himself. 

He never heard Ruen mutter their “I love you too.”


	4. Chloe Frazer, Shenyang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this with no direction at all and I'm sorry that it might be a little dull compared to the other chapters but bear with me on this.

“Why are we doing this? Why in the fuck are we doing this?” Nate said through gritted teeth, clenching his fist anxiously as he stared up at the building. It was just like every other building on the block, but knowing what awaited them made it somehow more demeaning than the French or Japanese buildings. 

“Because there’s good money in it, love,” Chloe said, sneaking her arm under his and linking them. “Now remember, we’re husband and wife journalists here to document the accomplishments of the Great Leader so that we can stop the West from spreading its lies, yeah?” 

Nate doubted they would need that much detail. Convincing the consulate that they should be let into North Korea was the easy part, all you needed to do was show him your money, rather than your love for their insane leader. Luckily for them, money was something that their Russian tycoon client had plenty of. The stacks of dollars in down payment was good enough to fill the space in his skull as far as Chloe and Nathan were concerned. 

Working out how they were supposed to pull off their little heist was by far the hardest thing they had ever had to plan, and the most ridiculous job that they had ever been hired to do. The tycoon in question had paid them $50000 each just to get started, but promised them millions between them for completing the job and getting out alive. 

All they had been asked to do was break into the little office of some military underling and steal the clock that she kept on the windowsill. If the clock itself were diamond-encrusted and made entirely of platinum they could understand the millon dollar price tag. But it was a little North Korean timepiece, as far as they knew it was realistically worthless; it might not even work. Chloe had previously suggested that the clock was being used to carry information between countries. It was no secret that border nations smuggled information into North Korea on USB drives, they could imagine that getting it out was not too different a concept. Nate agreed with her that if the clock did contain information it was probably just personal notes, family messages going in and out. However, that was before they found out that their payment was in the region of seven figures. 

An-Kor Park was a stout little man with an unnerving smile about him. His frame said that he was most certainly not one of the starving North Koreans, and had definitely enjoyed the unlimited access to food that money and Chinese ‘freedom’ could buy. His real hunger was of course for money, and he waved Nate and Chloe through the visa process, barely even glancing at their well-faked passports that had them named as Nathan and Chloe Slater. Their phones and tablets, as well as the book that Chloe had packed, were bundled into a wooden box with a padlock behind his desk; it hardly fit the description of an actual safe. 

Park’s assistant ran the two ‘journalists’ down on the rules of being guests in the Republic, and there were a lot of them. No phones, no written text, no music, no overly sophisticated cameras. They wouldn’t leave their hotel without their guide and they wouldn’t speak to anyone that they didn’t have expressed government permission to speak to. They needn’t listen to their warnings. Their employer had reassured them that their guide was properly paid off and willing to look the other way should they wish to leave the hotel unaccompanied. 

With their passports confiscated, they were escorted to the ‘induction’ hotel across the street by two hostesses. Nate and Chloe were well aware of the fact that anyone and everyone that they would interact with were secret police. This was where they would have to prove their legitimacy as supporters of the Republic. It was the late afternoon when they arrived, but the evening began very early for them. They were dragged into a huge patriotic booze-fest complete with the military karaoke with their other hostesses and disgusting blueberry wine. 

Being a fake party animal came far more naturally to Chloe than it did to Nate. She could easily put on having the time of her life and behaving more drunk than she really was in order to avoid being made to drink even more of the purple poison. One would think that what with Nate’s history of drunken shenanigans and confusing parties he would have his act prepared, interval and encore included. However, he’d need to try a lot harder if he had any hope of convincing the secret police that he was as devoted as they wanted him to be. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was almost midnight when Chloe and Nate were practically ordered back to their room by the head waiter. Nate was far more drunk than he previously had been but no more merry. Chloe on the other hand was almost entirely sober, but had an incredibly sore throat from spending hours singing the propaganda songs very loudly and very badly. She put his arm around her neck, holding him up as they wandered tipsily down the corridor, stumbling back to their room. 

“Easy, cowboy,” she said, leaving him to prop himself up against the wall for a moment as she fiddled with their door key. As the door swung open she picked him up and promptly carried him over to the double bed that they would be forced to share, given their fake marital status. 

“You’re not light, are you?” She mocked, going into the leaking bathroom in search of her toothbrush. 

"I'd argue with you if I could," Nate groaned. "But my legs fell like fucking stone, so I say you win." 

He kicked off his shoes, though he used most of what little energy he had left in order to do so. Chloe could be a sloppy drunk, and Sully was a flirtatious drunk; both pretty funny to watch if you were the designated driver. But Nate was cursed with being the sleepy drunk. He had his eyes open just long enough to see Chloe's blurry figure slip into bed bedside him, not even giving him time to acknowledge the lights turning off before he himself was asleep. 

 

The next morning, there was a loud banging on their door. Chloe heard a key in the lock and jumped up from the bed. A remotely familiar hostess from the previous evening rushed in followed by two uniformed guards. 

“We are leaving now. Get your things and follow us. You have 10 minutes,” one of them said, very heavily accented. 

They were gone just as quickly as they had come, but Chloe and Nate had no time to react. It was six in the morning. They’d barely had five hours of sleep and now they had to get themselves together to be rushed to airport, all with a killer hangover each. Luckily for Nate, he had fallen asleep in his day clothes, and decided that he was too dead on the inside to even bother changing his underwear. He’d take some aspirin, brush his teeth, and then leave. Chloe could handle the harder part of getting new clothes on. By the time Chloe was packed up and waiting by the door, Nate was still struggling with his second shoe anyway. 

“Fuck it,” he murmured to himself. He tucked the laces into the side and stumbled towards the door. The shoe was loose and almost fell off plenty of times on their way to the car but he was in far too much pain to actually care; it would just have to do. 

The journey through airport security was an ordeal in its own right. Motion blurred as they were hurried passport control in a gaggle of other, genuine, Western journalists. There was a lot of asking questions, questions about being American, who they worked for, what they were covering, what they bringing in and taking out. Nate almost couldn’t the pen with which he needed to sign his forms, which promptly made him more shaky and more paranoid that he would be denied a visa if they thought that he was sick, or drunk, or worse. 

Chloe passed him several bottles of water between his naps on the short flight, he was restless when sleeping, but at least he wasn’t feverish. Jittery and scared, he gulped down bottle after bottle of overpriced Chinese mineral water until he could just about see the fasten-seatbelt sign light up in time for their decent into Pyongyang. 

“Husband and wife, yeah?” Chloe said reassuringly, offering him her hand as the plane was led in to park. 

“Yeah,” he said, squeezing it nervously. She gave him a friendly peck on the cheek, and he blushed a little. Sure, they had been a thing in the past and could probably be a thing again in the future, but right now being close friends suited them both just fine. They refrained from talking to the other chatty journalists on the bus, partially so that their poorly manufactured fake cover wouldn’t be blown, but also because they were far more hungover than other journalists. In fact, most of them didn’t look hungover at all. Chloe then realised that they must’ve given better bribes to avoid the humiliation of the drunk singing.   
On the possible pain of death, or at least great shunning, Nate still showed very little interest in the monuments and buildings that their guides pointed out to them. He was in North fucking Korea itself and all he could feel was exhaustion and boredom. Chloe at least bothered to look left and right when prompted. Nate felt just about ready to lay down and die when the other journalists started talking to them. Mostly it was friendly introductions, exchanging credentials and the like. But one journalist, a young American girl, Rebecca, would not stop asking them questions. She had noticed them holding hands, being sat together, Nate dozing on Chloe’s shoulder, and was infatuated with asking Chloe questions about their relationship. 

Soon the rest of the journalists were asking them questions, ignoring the rest the of the sites with only the occasional photo through the tiny bus windows. Nate didn’t bother talking in much capacity. He gave a few names, shook a few hands, but was extremely grateful when Chloe started taking over. Chloe laughed and chuckled and nodded her way through the conversation, giving his cheek gentle kisses and visibly rubbing the back of his hand to be more in the act, which Nathan could only admit to himself that he truly enjoyed it. 

Chloe kept lying for them, about all the sweet dates they had been on together. Apparently their first date was at a castle and museum in Ukraine, after bumping into each other at a press conference. They did meet at a castle in Ukraine, and Chloe blew a hole the wall. Minor details, he thought. Semantics.

According to her they hadn’t even been married a year and were still madly in love. Yes, it did make working together hard and strange sometimes; no, they were not thinking about having children anytime soon. Most of what she said was really a lie, but they were close enough for them to draw a line between the dots on the details. Nate liked that about their relationship, they could be on and off romantically, have sex every so often, but they were never not close friends. 

And that suited him just fine.


	5. Elena Fisher, Sydney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nate is gonna get roasted lmao

“Darling, he’s always been charming in his own way. That’s the thing.” Chloe said, downing the rest of her Manhattan. 

“I know that,” Elena said, “but it’s endearing when he’s nervous about it. He tries hard even if it doesn’t work out for the best.” 

Nadine shook her head. 

“I’ll never understand men, not now not ever.” She turned over her empty shot glass, smacking it down on the damo coaster. 

“God, me neither, love,” Chloe said, kissing her cheek. “Thank the Lord that neither of us have will ever need to after next week.” 

The couple had decided to have their joint hen night before the eve of the wedding, so as to avoid turning up to their own wedding hungover. The evening had involved a bar filled with their closest friends, mostly girls, but a few of the ‘approved’ men came in for the early drinks to offer congratulations. Charlie had become a close friend of them all, and was a good laugh for them when tipsy. Despite his large build and intimidating features he was more of a lightweight than any of them, and was amongst the first to leave the party. The Drake brothers had come in with Elena, meaning only to give their greetings, but ended up both leaving with very sore arms after getting quite drunk and foolishly challenging Nadine to not only arm-wrestle them, but also to drink them under the table; which of course, she did. 

Sam really had gone home to get some shuteye, but Nate decided to wait on a bench outside the bar and stay until Elena came out so that he could be sure that she would come home safe; especially since they would both be walking home. The night was warm, and he didn’t mind sitting in the glow of the streetlight in such a peaceful town. It was quiet enough for him to be able to hear the women laughing inside the little bar. His bench was on the pavement, just by the window of the bar. He looked through the window and watched them, smiling to himself. It was always so lovely to see Elena smiling. 

He got up, wandering over to the window and crouching under the one that was open just a little to let in some cool air. He listened carefully, knowing that they were enjoying themselves. 

“-en he first asked me out on a date, I legitimately thought he would faint just looking at him. He was shaking!” Elena said, giggling as she fiddled with the straw in her mojito. Nate blushed, he knew she was talking about him. It was going to be one of those embarrassing story and he wasn’t even being forced to endure it; this was new. 

“I think it’s kind of endearing when people are nervous about asking you out,” Chloe said. 

“Is that why you’re marrying me?” Nadine teased, tickling her fiancee’s side a little drunkenly, causing them all to laugh as Chloe flinched and tried to fight back, sloppily. 

“I’m sure you possess far more endearing qualities than that, Nadine,” Elena complimented. Nate grinned, Elena was one of the rare people that somehow became even sweeter when drunk. Compliments were showered whenever drunk Elena was nearby. 

“Like a working brain, unlike your husband.” 

Elena couldn’t help but laugh with them. 

“Once he managed to lock himself in the garage, I found him two hours later trying to climb on top of the drying so he could escape through the window instead of, y’know, opening the front door.” 

Nate shook his head; he listened to their friends howl with laughter. Elena was exceptionally fond of humiliating him with that story, though it was always in good humour.

“Which means he sat there either trying to open the locked door, or doing nothing, for two straight hours!” Nathan had to cover his mouth to stop himself from half-laughing, half-whining, as much as he wanted to. In truth, he would be mortified if he were in the room with them. 

“When Cassie was born he came to see me with a baby in his arms while I was still in my hospital room, he said that he’d brought someone special to see their mom; you should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw that I was already feeding Cassie!” Elena was laughing so hard she could barely finish the sentence. 

“He stole someone else’s baby?!” Nadine yelled in disbelief, spilling a good amount of her beer on herself and Chloe as she leant over, laughing. 

“Yeah! See? He’s a total fuckup sometimes but I’ll always love him for it.” 

Nate leant against the stone wall of the bar under the window, sighing as he shook his head and grinning. 

He always knew he’d married the right woman.


	6. Victor Sullivan, New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to your queer elders, kids.

“So he’s out of the picture? I am sorry, kid.” Sully knew how fond Nate had been of Jacob. Things had been getting a little more serious over the last few months, at least while the job in New York was lasting them a decent amount of time. There’d been no talk of Nate actually settling down or anything, but Sully was surprised that it had ended so suddenly. 

“I’m not,” Nate said, dropping down on the tatty sofa with a depressing whump. “Turns out he’s a real asshole.” 

“Did he cheat on you?”

Nate shook his head. 

“Not that kind of asshole. In fact, I kinda wish he had. Then I’d never have to know about the real asshole part of him.” 

Sully sighed. If it was worse than cheating then it must be bad. He sat next to Nate and put his arm around him. Nate was incredibly tense; and Sully could just only just feel him trembling under his hand. Nate looked more upset than angry, almost scared. He couldn’t help but feel the need to press the issue further. 

“Nate? You okay?” 

Nate leant forward, resting his head in his hands. Sully heard him sniff, gulp back the tears. He knew that Nate had a high tolerance for heartbreak, but seeing him cry over it was knew.

“Nate, son? What did he do? Did he hurt you?” Sully unconsciously clenched his other fist, but moved his other hand to Nate’s shoulder, trying to reassure him, only to feel Nate shudder before standing up. Hell, he damn near leapt up like a rabbit, his cheeks and eyes red hot from trying not to cry. 

“Nate, I swear to God if that guy hurt you I’ll be damned if I don’t-” 

“It’s fine, Sully!” Nate said abruptly, almost shouting in panic. 

“If it’s so fine then why won’t you tell me what happened? You said he was an asshole, so an asshole about what?” Sully said, keeping his temper. He didn’t get up or move; he let Nate have the distance that he wanted. 

“It’s really my fault,” Nate muttered, just audible to Sully. “I should’ve told him.” 

“What about, kid?” 

Nate sighed, he wiped a tear away with the edge of his sleeve. 

“Remember that time we were working in Colombia, and you saw me kissing Javi, and you said you’d always have my back whoever I loved?” Nate said shakily, fiddling with his sleeves. 

Where the conversation was going was already making Sully nervous. It was like watching a child telling their parents something important but starting with ‘please don’t get mad at me.’ He’d never seen Nate look so nervous. Sure, he’d seen him get worried about getting caught with a man in some the less friendly nations they visited, but this was new. 

“Son, I’m always gonna be looking out for you and whoever you decide to see isn’t gonna change that.” 

Nate took a deep breath; Sully noticed him wince a little in his face. Breathing so awkwardly wasn’t just making him emotional, it was physically hurting him. 

“I like girls, Sully,” he said, hanging his head shamefully. 

“So? You were finding out about yourself, that’s more than most people are willing to do.”

“I don’t just like only girls, though. I like girls but I like guys too. That’s what Jacob got mad about, but I should’ve told him months ago anyway.” 

Sully shook his head and exhaled deeply. 

“You’re right, Nate. He’s a real asshole. He can’t ask for only a piece of you. Good thing he’s out of it now.” He stood up and went over to Nate, putting a gentle hand on his arm. 

“You don’t think that’s stupid?” Nate asked cautiously. “Don’t you think I should have to pick one? I’m just… y’know… greedy otherwise? Right?” 

Sully couldn’t bear to watch Nate’s soul being crushed. Nate had never been so concerned with that part of himself before and knowing that his asshole of a date had put that idea in his head made his blood boil. Of course, Sully had heard it all before. He’d told himself those things before. But years had passed, and he wasn’t going to have Nate, who was practically his son, endure the same bullshit that he’d been made to. 

“Kid,” Sully said, gently putting a hand on his back and helping him make his way back to the sofa. “Listen, I know what you’re thinking right now, and it doesn’t mean anything. It’s all bullshit.” 

Nate shook his head, running his hands through his hair in despair. 

“How would you know, then? You’re just a ladies man, Sully.” Nate said coldly. Sully frowned. He had hoped to ever avoid this conversation, but Nate had just been made to lower his shields for his father figure; he could only do the same about himself. He owed Nate some real comfort. He decided to suck it up, inhaling as he felt the lump form in his throat. He wouldn’t cry, dammnit.

“I might look in the direction of pretty girls a lot, Nate. But I damn well know a fine man when I see one. We’re no different, alright?” 

Nate was crying real tears now. He and Sully loved the same people and he never knew. He never truly knew that Sully wasn’t just sympathetic, he’d lived everything he had and more. He rested his head on Sully’s shoulder, grateful for the gentle hug that Sully gave, holding onto him. He looked up, hearing the old man sniff, and smiled thankfully as he noticed that Sully was crying too. Sully had never been about the ‘men don’t cry’ rule, but this was still somehow a welcome sight. 

“Guess we’ve both had heartbreaks, hmm?” Sully asked. Nate laughed, or rather he tried to. He exclaimed loudly when his stomach decided to stab him itself. 

“Nate? Kid? What’s up?” 

Nate lifted his shirt up at the hem. A colourful rainbow of bruises ran along his stomach, going upwards and making perfect imprints of his lower ribs. 

“I am gonna kill that son of a bitch myself, Nate. That bastard isn’t even gonna see it coming.” Sully got up, heading to the sideboard in the tiny hallway of their apartment to find his gun. Witnesses be damned. Cops be damned. Life in prison be damned. Jacob Romano was not going to see the next sunrise over Manhattan if Victor Sullivan had a say in it. 

“Sully!” Nate yelled, jogging to behind him, and putting his hand over the sideboard drawer to stop Sully from opening it. “He’s not worth it.” 

“Nate, I promised you that I was gonna protect you, and I haven’t. You know the bastard deserves it.” 

“I’d rather you stay here and know that you’re not gonna get arrested. He gotta have each other’s backs, okay? Especially now.”

Sully sighed, taking his hand off the drawer and running it through his greying hair. His face was still hot from crying and his eyes were stinging. He had promised this young man, still very much like the boy he had basically adopted off the streets of Cartagena, that he would be there for him no matter what. But even when he had failed, even when he wanted to make things right by him, this boy, hell, his son, was still thinking of both of them. There was never going to be a time when he wouldn’t be a little afraid for him, even if he never showed it. 

“Alright,” he said. “But I think we have a dozen eggs in the fridge a little past their sell-by date. What’d’ya say we go and throw them out, if you know what I mean?” 

Nate’s expression softened into a calm smile. 

“Thanks, Sully.”


End file.
